


it brings out your eyes

by PinkHydrangea



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 22:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkHydrangea/pseuds/PinkHydrangea
Summary: Zeke buys Tatiana lip paint because she likes it. Because it makes her feel pretty. He doesn't buy her lip paint so she can discreetly embarrass him with it.





	it brings out your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> don't @ me but i love lipstick and lipstick stains when you kiss somebody, even if it's just on the cheek, i Love it
> 
> also this isn't edited pls forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes im depressed and eager to publish tatizekes

There is something especially tempting about Tatiana that morning, but Zeke can’t really put his finger on it. To be honest, he doesn’t care to, either. It’s probably something small and inconsequential, like a change in soap or the new perfume he bought her at the market the other day. Whatever it is, he likes it, and he likes when she grabs the lapels of his coat and brings him down towards her for a kiss. It lasts longer than it should, when he’s just about to leave for work. He scoops her up so he doesn’t have to keep leaning down, and he definitely likes it when she peppers kisses all over his face, and even dips down to his neck for some  _ special _ attention.

“Have a good day,” she says, with one more peck to the tip of his nose.

“If the day goes as well as this morning has, I’m sure I will.” Zeke sets her on her feet, cups her face, and tilts it towards him to give her one more kiss on the top of her head. “You have a good day as well. I should be home tonight.”

“Travel safe,” Tatiana says, and with that, he’s off.

He thought there was maybe––just maybe––a mischievous little tilt to her lips, but he’s probably just imagining things. His Tatiana is too sweet for mischief.

* * *

 

It’s late summer, hot, and Zeke slips off his cravat before he goes to his meetings. It’s unusual for him to do such, but it’s just his men he’s going to speak to. Not Jerome or even a single one of his own lackeys, so he figures it’s fine to let down his hair, so to speak. So, he even takes off his greatcoat, the waistcoat beneath, and deigns to roll the sleeves of his button-up to his elbows. He contemplates, wonders if opening a button or two would also be acceptable, but then decides against it.

He collects his papers and reports, leaves his study, and heads for the briefing room. He sighs, drags his hand through his hair while studying the papers, and pauses a little when he notices a couple of his paladins staring at him. Zeke is, embarrassingly enough, used to men and women alike staring at him, but never these two young ladies. These two girls are always professional and polite, never gawking.

He stops, pulls his hand out of his hair, and regards them. “Ladies? Can I help you?”

They choke on some sounds, duck their heads, and shake them. One of them speaks up and says, “Sorry, sir. Nothing’s wrong. Sorry.”

The other straightens up, puts her hands behind her back, and looks perfectly composed. “Say, sir, how’s Sister Tatiana doing?”

Their behavior is odd, but he can’t pin down any reason it should be. Zeke narrows his eyes, replies, “She’s as lovely as always,” and keeps making his way to the briefing room. He makes a stop by the mess hall before going in, grabs a cup of black coffee, and keeps studying the reports as he pushes open the door.

The clamor inside stops immediately, the soldiers standing at attention, but they all sit right back down when he mumbles, “At ease.”

There’s the expected quiet, the quiet Zeke’s presence always demands when he starts a meeting, but there’s something a little off about it. Maybe? Maybe not. Maybe he’s a little suspicious because of the paladins in the hallway. It’s probably nothing.

Yet, he hears a little whisper, a hushed comment between two of his men as he walks by to set his papers down on the table, and he snaps a glare over in the general direction. The talking stops, and he narrows his eyes before flipping through his papers, trying to find the specific information he needs.

There is definitely something a little off, but Zeke decides to push it aside. He keeps his coffee mug with him as he moves back to the front of the briefing room, and he keeps quiet as he tries to figure out where to start.

He goes on for a good twenty minutes, lecturing about the crime fluctuations near the Black Forest and new patrol groups. He talks about which of the Pegasus Knights will be training to receive a Falcon Knight promotion, goes over important names and dates, and eventually, something is just. Off. It’s just off, and when he hears someone snickering, he snaps the papers down to a nearby table.

“What is it?” he barks, and the room falls silent. “None of you are ever so chatty during a meeting. So. Tell me, then, what is so amusing to you?”

There’s silence, the soldiers all glance at one another, but none of them give it away. If anything, they look kind of guilty. Their eyes are darting about, anywhere but Zeke, and he takes a deep, heavy sigh as he lifts his coffee mug to his lips. The drink has cooled and is a good drinking temperature now, and it’s just what he needs to calm the headache that’s coming on from dealing with this.

Zeke prepares to scold them as soon as he’s done with a drink, to chew them out for speaking and snickering to one another so impolitely while they are discussing serious matters, but he sees something that makes him freeze. He frowns and looks down to the coffee mug, tilting it around a little to get a good, solid look at it. He doesn’t really know what it is, at first, and then his heart stops and the back of his neck flushes.

It’s a little smudge of paint; lip paint, to be precise. A very lovely and bright shade of coral, and he knows exactly what it is and where it came from. He knows exactly what it is and where it came from, because he’s the one who bought it as a romantic gesture.

Oh gods, how much of it is on him?

Zeke sets his coffee mug on the table next to the papers, throws a hand over his flushed face, and mutters, “You’re all dismissed.”

Barely contained laughter escapes a few of the soldiers, and one says, “Sir, it’s fine! Sir, please! We promise we’re not laughing at you!”

“Shut up,” he hisses, and he slams the door behind him as he leaves.

Inconsiderate fools, the lot of them, and he keeps cursing them as he storms down the hall to the closest washroom. Why would they not tell him that he has lipstick all over him? That’s kind of something that you’re supposed to tell a person. It’s something that you’re supposed to whisper discreetly and politely, like when you tell someone their shirt is inside out, or their boots are untied, and then you pretend like you never saw it. It’s not something to sit there and snicker about throughout a whole meeting.

He practically bursts into the washroom, and he locks the door behind him. It takes a moment of him pacing around the room to work up the courage to look in the mirror. He’s worried about what he’ll find, and he’s burning furiously. He’s been at work for probably eight hours now. Eight hours, most of which he’s spent locked up in his study, but still. He’s had visitors and the like. Eight hours of this nonsense.

Zeke takes a deep breath, braces his hands on the edge of the sink, and confronts his reflection. He winces, but really, it’s not as bad as he thought it would be. He’d imagined thick blobs of the stuff all over, in every little place Tatiana had kissed him that morning, but it’s not that much. It’s mostly just a few places, and it’s only thin smears. However, it is a very bright color (that was why he’d bought it. Tatiana had wanted something bright and fun for the summer, and the paint had caught his eye during grocery shopping), and he gingerly wipes his fingers over the smudges. It comes away with little ease, and he scowls as he grabs a towel off of a hook and starts to scrub.

“Damn you, you little vixen,” he grumbles. “You’re going to have a time of it when I get home.”

He notices something that fills him with even more mortification while he’s scrubbing away the last traces of the coral color: Almost perfectly lip-shaped smudges of the paint, not just on his face, but on his neck. Near the planes of his chest, at his Adam’s apple, right below his jaw, and Zeke makes a sound almost like a  _ squeak _ as he realizes that these were probably the worst offenders. In taking his cravat off, he’s essentially put these particular stains on display, shouting to the whole base, “Look who got some action this morning!”

Zeke doesn’t come out of the washroom for an hour, not until someone comes knocking and looking for him.

He wants to die.

* * *

 

Tatiana squeals, delighted, when Zeke scoops her up right out of the kitchen, carries her back to the bedroom, and throws her on the bed. Not so much as a “Hello, darling, I’m home,” or a “How was your day?” None of that. He’s mad, humiliated, and he doesn’t have time for pleasantries.

She laughs as she lies back on the bed, and he knows that she knows what she’s done. Her smile that morning had been mischievous, she hadn’t told him she left smears of her affection all over him. She had just let him stroll into work and make a fool of himself in front of all of his subordinates. Praise the gods that Jerome wasn’t in the office today. He’s gotten at least one blessing.

Tatiana clasps her hands together over her chest, staring up at him expectantly. “Hi, honey.”

Zeke puts his hands on his hips and glares down at her. “You little minx.”

She tilts her head to the side, pouts those pretty little lips (the source of all his troubles!), and flutters her eyelashes. “Well, I just don’t know what you mean!”

He narrows his eyes at her, then looks over to the vanity. The offending object is sitting right atop it, the brush next to it appearing freshly used, and he notes with exasperation that she has reapplied it, probably just to mock him. He takes the jar, examines it with a few turns of his hand, and then displays it to her. Zeke feels like he’s going through a routine interview with some thief, like he’s presenting the evidence.

“I didn’t buy this for you so you could use it to humiliate me,” he tells her.

Tatiana’s smile brightens up, and she puts her fingers to her lips. “I think that’s a really nice color on me, if I’m allowed to say so. Excellent choice, my love.”

Zeke has to admit, it is  _ really _ nice on her. The plush coral color brings out the undertones of green in her beautiful gray eyes. It stands out against her smooth, pale skin. It compliments her cascading seafoam hair nicely. As he stares down at her, lying back on the bed with her hair splayed out on the sheets, her fingers pressed to her painted lips, and her thick lashes hooding her eyes, he hates himself. He hates himself, because he falls infinitely more in love with her than he was before, and he didn’t really think that was possible.

Tatiana is going to kill him, and he is convinced that she is actively trying to.

He gives up trying to be stern and scolding, and instead sighs and puts the little jar of paint back down. “You really embarrassed me.”

A flicker of guilt crosses her face, along with some other emotion, and she lowers her gaze and her fingers. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to have a little fun. Show off the fact that you’re taken.”

Zeke sits on the bed and slings a leg up over his opposite knee to start undoing his boots. “Please don’t do it again. It distracted my men during an important meeting and it was absolutely mortifying. If you want to display our relationship, try in a different way, perhaps? One that doesn’t involve evidence of our private time?”

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, and then her humor is back with a sweet, almost dreamy smile. “That’s a nice color on you, though. Really brings out your eyes.”

The worst part is, she isn’t even being teasing. Zeke sighs as he throws his boots to the side, and he lies down on the bed with her. She scoots over to make room, and is clearly impatient to throw her arms over him. The second he gets comfortable, she attacks, leaning in to nuzzle his face.

“I can’t get enough of you,” she admits. Her arms open, inviting him into her embrace. “Come here.”

“I’m mad,” he tries to protest weakly, but he really isn’t. Not anymore. He can’t be, over something as innocent as sweet Tatiana’s attempt at a little bit of mischief. But, he’s got to be stern, he’s got to show that she can’t embarrass him for the expense of fun, and-

“Oh, really?” Tatiana puts her hands together, pulls them close to her chest, and looks away. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you-”

Zeke sees one little hint of the threat of tears in her eyes, and he lunges. He pulls her to his chest, burying her face in his shoulder, and shakes his head. “I’m not. Don’t feel bad. I’m sorry if I got harsh.”

Tatiana peeks up at him, her fingers curling around his bicep. “Oh. It's okay.”

“But, seriously. Don’t do it again.”

She laughs, and he almost heaves with relief. He loosens his grip on her to allow her a little bit of movement, and she instantly leans up and pushes her lips against his neck. He shudders at the affection, and doesn’t complain when she trails her mouth up higher, higher, leaving behind trails of coral as she gets to his lips.

Zeke meets her there with enthusiasm, resting his hands on her hips and tilting his head to give her access to whatever she wants. He’s certain that, if he were to look in a mirror right now, there’d be smears of lip paint all over him again, but he doesn’t care this time.

Tatiana thinks the color brings out his eyes, after all.


End file.
